


slipping through my fingers

by clxude



Series: victuuri week; 2017 [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: We should have a kid.Yuuri and Victor raising their son, one year at a time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> yes - the title is from a mama mia song, no shame  
> victuuri week day 5 - _yuuri: family_  
>  edited by rosywiki/kxrasuno!!

_ -2 _

 

He’s wedged between Victor’s thighs the first time his husband mentions it, two long legs thrown over his shoulders. It’s still early in the morning, hours before they’re due at the rink, hours before the sun even begins to rise.

 

“We should have a kid.”

 

Yuuri falls off of the bed, the floor cold and unforgiving. It snowed, back in Hasetsu, but it was nothing compared to the blizzards that depend on St Petersburg. Sometimes, when he wakes up after long naps after practices and lesson, he can’t tell if it’s night or if it’s snowing outside. Victor still teases him about it, sometimes.

 

“Like, a surrogate?” Yuuri asks, once he’s back on the bed, blankets pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped around Victor’s waist, pulling him against him snuggly. 

 

“I was thinking adoption, maybe. There are so many kids that deserve a home, a  _ family.  _ I want to be able to give them that.”

 

Yuuri pulls him closer, digs his chin into Victor’s collarbone. He’s the youngest in his family, and he was in Detroit most of the time when the Nishigori triplets were still tiny and innocent, before they were swept up by the skating otaku. But, having a child of their own - 

 

“I would like that,” Yuuri says, eyelids growing heavy. He yawns, scooching closer to his husband. “I would like that a lot.”

 

_ -1 _

 

He’s tired and stressed, downing coffee as quickly as he can. It’s two AM, and he really should be sleeping, but if they want to be approved for adoption during the next twelve months, he has to send the forms out as soon as possible.

 

He looks at Victor, dozing on the couch. Yuuri had forced him to sleep, promised that he would join Victor soon enough, but he has to finish this. For both of them.

 

…

 

He’s falling asleep on the ice when Mila slides up beside him, ramming into his side. He stumbles, but she stops him from falling, and continues to support him when he yawns.

 

“How are the forms?” she asks as the two of them skate around the rink. Yakov isn’t there, so they don’t have to worry about their coach yelling at them to practice. “You and Vitya both seem exhausted.” A second passes, and she smirks. “Unless - “

 

“No!” he shrieks, letting go of her arm and stumbling away. “The  _ forms  _ are going fine. We’re almost done, so we should be able to be approved this year.”

 

They continue to skate. “That’s good. I know how excited Vitya was about this having a kid.”

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri sighs. The two of them have been together for five years but it seems like it’s been a lifetime - stretched out until they knew each other better than themselves. “I just hope we’re approved. Victor will be crushed, otherwise.”

 

“Hey!” Mila punches his arm. “You’ll be fine. Even if -  _ even if  _ \- they didn’t like the fact that you were two men, Vitya is a national hero. Everyone loves him. That’ll give you some leverage, at least.”

 

“But, even still - “

 

“Shh.” She presses a finger to his lips. “No  _ buts.  _ They’re going to like you, and they’re going to give you the sweetest, fattest,  _ cutest  _ baby in all of Russia, okay? And then you and Vitya are going to be the best parents ever, right after my own.”

 

“Thanks, Mila.”

 

“As long as I’m the cool aunt.”

 

Yuuri laughs, says, “Of course, you’ll be,” before skating away. 

 

Victor’s waiting for him.

 

_ -.2 _

 

Victor’s crying, when Yuuri comes home from the supermarket a few blocks away from their apartment. He’s gripping a piece of paper in his hands, still standing in the entrance hallway.

 

“Victor?”

 

“We’ve been approved, Yuuri.”

 

He drops the groceries when Victor pulls him into a tight hug, squeezing all of the air from his lungs. They’re both crying now, smiling into each other’s necks.

 

“We’ve been approved.”

 

_ 0 _

 

It’s snowing when they bring him home from the adoption agency’s St Petersburg office, swaddled tightly and covered with cat print blankets Yuuri’s parents had shipped from Japan. 

 

He cries the entire car ride, face pinked and pinched up. Yuuri sits in the backseat with him, holding his tiny hands, singing nonsense songs in Japanese - anything to calm him down. He should be more prepared this; he’s read every parenting book he can get his hands on, every website that looked even the slightest bit trustworthy.

 

“It’s going to be fine,” Victor says, watching them in the rearview window. 

 

…

 

“His name is Yuri.”

 

“That’s stupid.” 

 

He’s fairly certain Mari is drunk, but it’s hard to tell through a skype call. But still, “He was already named when he was dropped off at the adoption agency.”

 

“There can’t be two Yuri’s. Call him...Yurio!” 

 

She looks too proud of herself to say no.

 

_ +1 _

 

“Yura, come here, baby,” Yuuri calls, holding his arms out wide.

 

They’re both exhausted, these days. Neither of them skate competitively anymore - have gone into teaching a few lessons here and there at the rink - but Yurio never stops crying. He’s adorable, and Yuri loves him with his entire heart and soul, but he doesn’t know the last time he had a full night’s rest.

 

Yurio wobbles to his side, steps shaky. He plops down beside his father, and his hands are immediately in his mouth. He’s been teething the last few months, and now his nibbling habit is less cute and more painful.

 

“Do you want lunch, Yura? Papa bought some blueberries for you.” 

 

He plays Baby Einstein in the kitchen, humming along as he washes the berries. Yurio sits in his highchair, kicking his legs. Every few seconds, he makes a gurgling sound low in his throat.

 

“I know you’re hungry, baby.” Once he’s done washing everything, he drags a kitchen stool over to Yurio. He offers the berries one at a time, coaxing Yurio to eat them. It’s successful, some of the time. Yurio munches on them happily, purple juice sliding down his chin, but he also throws them back at his father, or smashes them on the highchair tray.

 

“You’re a mess,” Yuuri sighs, licking the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stain on the corner of Yurio’s mouth. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

 

_ +2 _

 

Mila adores Yuri from the first time she sees him. She lifts him up in the air, tickles him, plays peekaboo - but the same thing can’t be said for Yurio. He’s two when he starts to shriek  _ no!  _ every time he sees her, hiding behind his father's’ legs.

 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

 

“Ugly,” Yuri whispers, glaring at Mila with as much anger a two year old can possibly summon.

 

Mila looks like she’s been slapped, Georgi chokes, the younger skaters look terrified. But Yakov - he just nods from his bench, drinking what Yuuri doesn’t think is coffee.

 

“You picked a good one, Vitya.”

 

_ +3 _

 

They take him to Japan when he turns three. Yuuri hasn’t been home in ages, and his parents haven’t been able to fly out to Russia to visit, either. The flight and the subsequent train ride out to Kyushu are quite the ordeal - Yurio spends the entire journey alternating between squirming and crying. 

 

Minako meets them at the train station in Hasetsu -  _ like old times,  _ she explains. At the onsen, she doesn’t get drunk for once, instead, spends the evening playing with Yurio. Yuuri’s mother says hello briefly, hugs him and Victor, but soon even she is whisked away by Yurio.

 

…

 

“How’s parenthood going?” Mari asks. 

 

“It’s tiring,” he says, “but rewarding.”

 

“Yurio seems like a good kid. Like a tiny Victor, with twice the attitude.”

 

“You have no idea,” he sighs.

 

Mari snorts. “Really?”

 

“He made Mila cry the other week. I don’t know where he picked up calling people a hag, but she certainly wasn’t expecting it.”

 

“The Russian skater? Damn.” She lets out a low whistle. “You got a feisty one.”

 

“I just hope it doesn’t get any worse once he’s a teenager.”

 

_ +4 _

 

“If he’s old enough to ride a tricycle,” Victor argues, “he’s old enough to skate.”

 

“Riding a bike with training wheels and throwing our kid out on the ice are completely different.”

 

They’re washing the dishes together, still perfectly in sync, even while arguing. Normally, Yuuri loves the chore, the proximity, the easy rhythm. It feels soured now, though.

 

“He’ll be perfectly safe! We’ll be there to watch him. And besides, I was three when my parents first took me skating.”

 

Yuuri’s hands still. “Just - just give it another year. Just until he’s a bit better at walking.”

 

“Of course,” Victor replies, kissing Yuuri’s cheek. “I just don’t want to hold him back, because of something we’re afraid  _ might  _ happen. Who knows, he might hate skating.”

 

“Doubt it.”

 

Victor taps his hip with soapy fingers, squeezing for the smallest portion of a second. “Doubt it.”

 

_ +5 _

 

“If he gets hurt, I’m filling for a divorce.” 

 

They both hold onto Yurio, Yuuri with his left hand, Victor with his right. A few of the other skaters are there, watching, but Victor talked them out of practicing their routines and jumps while Yura is on the ice.

 

“He’ll be fine, babe.”

They pull Yurio around the ice, the little boy letting out squeals of delight. Eventually, Mila grows restless and skates out to the center of the ice. Yuuri pulls Yurio a bit closer to his side when she jumps a quad salchow. She lands, smiling.

 

“Hag,” Yurio mumbles.

 

“Yura,” his papa chides. “Don’t be mean to Mila.”

 

Yuuri scoffs. “She shouldn’t have done it. She could have gotten hurt, and then Yurio would have - “

 

“Babe.”

 

“Mmh?” He looks up at Victor, cheeks pink.

 

“He’ll be fine,” Victor says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll protect him, right?”

 

“Right,” Yuuri sighs. Nothing will hurt Yuri - not when his fathers are protecting him.

 

_ +6 _

 

Victor teaches Yurio to waltz jump when Yuuri leaves the rink to pick up lunch, and by the time he comes back, arms weighed down with drinks and greasy bags of takeout, Yurio has nearly already perfected the movement.

 

“Your son is a natural,” one of the younger skaters says. She’s new to the rink - a year and a few months. She doesn’t talk to Victor and Yuuri often, and whenever she comes up, Mila laughs.

 

_ ‘She’s in love with both of you.’ _

 

_ ‘That’s stupid.’ _

 

_ ‘It’s the legacy, and the small child. It does things to a girl’s ovaries.’ _

 

“Watch me!” Yurio yells, once he spots his father. He swings himself into the jump, blond hair streaming behind him. He lands, wobble free. “I made it!”

 

“I knew you could,” Yuuri says, smiling. Be loose, be flexible - Yurio is fine. He smiles, spinning around on the ice with his papa.

 

_ +7 _

 

It’s strange, when Yurio starts school. Everyone at the rink holds their breath, waiting for Yuuri to crack and homeschool the kid, but he just smiles, takes Yurio out shopping for school supplies and foods to pack in his lunchbox. 

 

But Victor  _ sobs,  _ lists every reason why Yuri shouldn’t go. Only a third of them made sense, but he still cried, tugging at Yuuri’s clothes.

 

“Please, Yura. He could be hurt, or someone could - “

 

“It’s fine,” Yuuri holds his husband’s head in his palms. Wiping away the tears, he says, “We’ll be there for Yurio no matter what, right? So there’s no need to worry.”

 

“I know but - “

 

“Like you always say, he’ll be okay.”

 

Victor smiles, eyes watery. “Okay,” he nods. “Okay.” 

 

…

 

Yuri comes home two days later with a scraped elbow and a band-aid on his chin. Victor fusses over him, but it’s the only fight. People stay away, after Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov hands the other kid their ass.

 

_ +8 _

 

“Good luck, Yurio!” Victor yells from the side of the rink, hands cupped around his mouth. 

 

“You got this!” 

 

It’s his first competition, and Yuuri knows his hands shook as he tied his skates. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t want anyone to know. But there’s no reason to worry, and Yuuri told him that in the car. Yurio scoffed, rolled his eyes, _I know that._ _Even you could skate the program._

 

The program isn’t hard - there isn’t even a single triple.

 

(“You don’t need them to win, Yurio.”

 

“Shut up, Papa.”)

 

But, at the end of the day, he still comes home with a gold medal around his neck.

 

_ +9 _

 

“What did we tell you?”

 

Yuri signs, chin propped on his hand. He won’t look at them - hasn’t once, the entire time they’ve been out to dinner. “No triples until I’m at least ten.”

 

“And what did you do?”

 

“A triple.”

 

“You don’t need them to win, Yurio. You’re good enough without them. But, if you continue to do them now, you’ll just injure yourself.”

 

“No, I won’t!” Yurio argues, finally looking at his parents. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“I said the same thing to Yakov when I was your age,” Victor says, “And then I twisted my ankle and couldn’t skate for a month. You’ll be miserable.”

 

“Fine,” Yurio spits out, obviously not meaning it.

 

“And, we’ll won’t let you go on the computer if you do it again,” Yuuri adds.

 

“Fine!”

 

_ +10 _

 

“Who’s your friend, Yurio?” Victor asks.

 

It’s always been hard for Yuri to get close to people, so his parents are glad to see him dragging  _ anyone  _ around by the wrist, even if they have no idea who the obviously older child is.

 

“Beka,” Yuri says. He doesn’t look at his parents, instead focusing on Beka’s hand, playing with his fingers and the hem of his jacket.

 

“Otabek Altin, sir. I’m in Yuri’s ballet class.” He looks too serious for a child, Yuuri thinks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Do you skate as well, Otabek?” Yuuri asks.

 

“Yes, but not as well as your son.”

 

His face remains serious, but the corners of his mouth quirk up when Yurio blushes.

 

_+11_

 

_ (“I love you.” _

 

_ “I - fuck, Yuuri - I love you too.”) _

 

His neck is bruised the next morning, riddled with teeth marks. It attracts a few stares at the rink the next morning once he unravels his scarf.

 

“Have fun last night?”

 

Yuuri glances at Victor. “You could say that.”

 

_+12_

 

Otabek and Yuri practice together more than they don’t, syncing up jumps and spins. Yuuri watches, sometimes, from up in the stands where no one will notice him.

 

The two if them are so different - it would seem that the only thing they have in common is their pride. But, when they move together on the ice, it’s like one soul in two bodies, flawless and complete.

 

_+13_

 

“Do you think Yurio has a crush?” Victor asks. They’re at the mall, sitting a couple tables away from Yuri and Otabek.

 

_ (“You can’t sit with us,” Yuri interrupts when Victor moves to pull out a chair. _

 

_ “Why not?” Victor asks, laughing. _

 

_ “Because - “ Yuri waves his hands around. “Because you’re not cool!”) _

 

Yuuri glances at them, taking a sip of diet coke. “Oh, definitely.”

 

_ +14 _

 

“He’s grown so much,” Victor says, wistful, as they watch Yurio receive his gold medal. It gleams against his chest, underneath the bright lights.

 

“He really has,” Yuuri replies. The national anthem begins. Yurio has always been cold, fluid and distant, when he’s out on the ice. But, when the music begins, the barest hint of a smile lights up his face. “I wonder how next year will go, once he’s in the senior division.”

 

“He’ll be untouchable.”

 

_+15_

 

“How does it feel,” the interviewer asks, “to have your son carry on your legacy as a figure skater at such a young age?”

 

“I think watching his progress is different for us and it is for the media and the fans. Victor and I have watched him grow so much since he first stepped foot on the ice. We know the long hours he’s put into skating, and the things he’s missed out on to come this far.

 

“Yes, it’s impressive to see him win the Grand Prix Finals at fifteen, but it’s nothing he hasn’t worked extremely hard on, every single day.”

 

…

 

“I saw your interview.”

 

“Oh?” Yuuri glances at him in the rearview mirror. “What did you think?”

 

“You didn’t have to be so goddamn mushy.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr - violet-boy (main) mother-iwa-chan (animanga) claude-lit (writing)  
> comments/kudos/requests are appreciated!!!


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